The Fire
by Andrea Weiling
Summary: AU fic. Touya Akira is stuck in a burning building and Hikaru goes up and saves him. Definitely NOT my best work. Sketchy, finally finished. Third chapter up. Akira has confession when Hikaru the priest wakes up.
1. The School

The Fire: The School  
  
The Insei building that most of the potential young Go players went to was five stories tall, and had seven floors. As a building itself, it had a perimeter of a hundred and twelve meters, and sixteen flights of stairs. The rooftop couldn't exactly provide a perfect view of Tokyo, though - it was impeded by skyscrapers in all directions. This, however, did not stop the view of the people on the streets, in which the roof offered. For the most part, the roof had seen its share of weepers (who had lost their matches), hysterically cheery kids (who obviously won their matches), and basically bored people who had no where else to eat lunch or hang out. No one, though, was stupid enough to climb the fence surrounding the roof - who would want to fall? Therefore, there had been no deaths recorded on the Insei building's death records just yet. That record, however, was in question as of now.  
  
The teachers of the Insei building showed up early in the morning, about six, to set up class and mind the earlier kids whose parents had to go to work early. It was a little later, about seven thirty or so, when the rest of the students started to come in, and soon the cubbies for shoes were all but filled up. But it was not until later, about eight o' clock on a clouded over Saturday in January, that someone discovered the roof was on fire.  
  
When the alarm went off, there was chaos. Apparently people were either crushed by the mob that tried to get through the sliding doors, hiding under tables and behind the refrigerator in the kitchen, or screaming and panicking. Never mind the fire drills that they had practiced only two months ago - it was chaos today, the students milling around the school as if attracted like bees to a particularly succulent flower. Outside, watchers gathered, observing the reddish-orange glare from the top of the building that sent the metal link fences down to the street five stories below. No one thought of calling the fire department until twenty minutes later, and by then the firemen had already spotted the fire in the distance. However, Tokyo was a large city, and though at the very least the truck would take another ten minutes to get there, it had to get parking on one of the busiest streets of all Tokyo. The policemen basically scratched their heads trying to figure out a detour for the angry people trying to get to work on time while inside, people burned. Ambulances were speedier; they arrived only five minutes after the call arrived, but that was due to the fact that the hospital was only a block away and they could run there with a cart and stretchers.  
  
The Insei students who had made it outside were being hushed and comforted by the loving mothers who happened to be in the crowd as well as the medics that arrived, bringing with them hot drinks and warm blankets. The wind wasn't particularly cold that day - but it had been drizzling since the day before, and the rain was cold. Soon, they had a canopy set up on the building closest to the Insei building, but far enough from the fire-wrecked building so that if it were to fall, the canopy wouldn't be crushed. There, the victims of the fire that the firemen managed to pull from the second and third floors were tended to, as well as the first floor students. Someone went back in the first floor before the ceiling collapsed in the classroom and brought a dozen Go boards and caskets of black and white stones, so many students calmed down with a nerve-frazzled game with a friend. Three of the students, however, were not playing - they stood, watching the building burn right across the street, and they smelled the smoke and it stung their senses.  
  
A limo pulled up near to the school. Some gave it a curious glance, especially at its passenger, a seemingly old man who carried dignity on his shoulders like a cloak, and whose hands were calloused and sensitive from rubbing Go stones for so long. He was dressed completely unlike the rest of the onlookers; he was garbed in old-fashioned Japanese dress, and he wore sandals instead of sneakers. Upon arriving, he hurried over to the survivor stand under the canopy, and questioned a nurse anxiously if his son had been saved. The man was the Meijin Touya. Touya Akira had not come out of the building.  
  
One of the boys, bangs dyed a sandy blonde, overheard the conversation and quietly draped his blanket over his friend, who was watching a game. The other friend gave this boy a look, and stood at the look on the younger one's face. "Hikaru, what are you thinking now?", he questioned softly over the melee of shouting at the building.  
  
Hikaru waved a gesture at the building, his voice meek but his eyes determined. "Touya Akira is still in there."  
  
"And?", the third boy asked, brushing away his long bangs. "What about him?"  
  
"He could get killed."  
  
"Yes", Waya said, "so what?"  
  
"He's my sworn rival."  
  
"And?", Isumi asked, his voice clearly impatient for the finale.  
  
Hikaru did not answer, but went over to the nearest fire hydrant, and held his head and shoulders underneath the spilt water where the pipes to the fire truck refused to connect. In a minute, he was completely soaked, but where he was going, that would not help him. He reached out and took Waya's water bottle, and filled that underneath the pipe as well. The two others stared at their now drenched friend.  
  
"No", Isumi whispered. "You can't be thinking of that, Hikaru." When the boy did not say anything, but started to walk towards the burning building, the oldest boy grabbed his shoulder and enunciated his words, "You CANNOT GO IN THERE, Hikaru."  
  
"Fourth floor, seventh room to the right, am I correct?", he asked Isumi cheerfully. The oldest boy didn't say anything, but his eyes betrayed his answer. "Then I'm going after him", the youngest said confidently, as if he were stating he was going to win a match.  
  
"Why?", Isumi asked, still trying to reason out an explanation.  
  
"Because he'd do the same for me, I know", Hikaru said matter-of- factly.  
  
"You can't!", Waya blurted out. "You'll get killed."  
  
The youngest smiled affably. "Then at least Touya won't die alone, hmm?" And he took off towards the back entrance of the building at a run while his friends trailed behind, waving their arms and yelling his name. But soon, Hikaru was gone from sight - inside the building, into the floor where smoke billowed out to cover all of Tokyo in a dark, gray gauze for the rest of the week. And it seemed to the two boys on the pavement that all of Tokyo was burning with their friend who was inside, inside where he wouldn't come back out.  
  
* * *  
  
At first, Hikaru found it easy going. The smoke was deadly, yes, especially because the gas tank for the heater had broken in the basement and the third floor was slippery with gasoline that miraculously hadn't caught fire yet. But he still had one more floor to go, and that was to the fourth. As he went up higher, the smoke clouded his way, and soon he had to crawl near the floor like he'd been taught, and breathe the oxygen that misted near the floor like white cream on top of a Napoleon. He had to feel the walls to find the seventh room, and finally, when he got there, the roof above him burst into flames. He had to duck inside of the room to escape some of the debris that now clouded the doorway. That way was certainly blocked.  
  
Inside, the windows hadn't shattered from the hot air pressure just yet. Touya Akira was there, just as he'd predicted, lying on the ground apparently knocked out by the fumes already. His head swam for a moment, but he gained balance on the groaning structure and took out the bottle of water he'd gotten from the fire hydrant. Of course, it hadn't be purified or anything - but dirty water was better than no water in a fire, and so he poured a little on Touya's lips. The ni dan drank greedily, and Hikaru had to stop from giving him too much. Then, he quickly wrapped his rival in a coat nearby, soaked the coat and the occupant with the rest of the water from the bottle, and then looked out of the window. No, it was too high from the fourth floor - he'd have to drag Touya to a lower level to drop him, or else they might miss and Touya would die anyway, broken on the pavement.  
  
Placing Touya down, he went over to the door and opened it a crack. Immediately flame leapt up at him. Quickly he shut the door and looked around. There were two sliding doors, each to one side of the room. Finding the next room over wasn't consumed by fire just yet, he half- carried, half-dragged his rival into the next room, then the next room over, until he was in the first room near the stairs. Then, he opened the door to find it miraculously clear of flames, and closed the coat over Touya's mouth as he descended down the stairs.  
  
The third floor, predictably, was already on fire. The gasoline that had spilt had finally caught, and now the entire floor was awash with flames. Hikaru gingerly sidestepped some of the flames, carefully throwing Touya to one side of the low-licking flames before jumping over himself. Then he carried his burden down to the second floor, and into one of the rooms. However, the window faced the south side of the building, where there were no spectators, as the courtyard in the back was clouded with smoke. He worked to drag Touya into the room across the hallway, and there, from the window, he gave a holler and a shout. Heads turned up at the one particular window, especially when a scattering of black-and-white stones came flying out of it.  
  
"Hey!", Hikaru called. "Catch!" Below, people hastily held a spare canopy taut, and Hikaru sent Touya down to Earth. After making sure that they had moved Touya to the side, the younger boy now made as if to climb out and be caught himself, but a sudden jolt sent a shudder through the entire building, exploding the window next to him. Hikaru fell backwards, back into the room, and in one instant the door blew open from the force of the fire, and flames began to eat up the room.  
  
Below, Waya and Isumi had seen the entire exchange. "He fell backward", Waya said horridly. "Where is he?"  
  
Isumi shook his head. "He might be knocked out, especially if he had been standing on something tall to hold Touya over the window. In that case, the fire probably already entered the room, especially from the smoke that's coming from that window, and -"  
  
Waya clapped his hands to his ears as if he didn't want to hear anymore. "Stop, Isumi, stop. I don't want to hear how my friend is going to get torched alive. I'd rather hear something more encouraging, you know."  
  
There came a murmur to the right, and the two looked up to see that Touya Akira had awakened, dazedly, and was currently asking where he was. His father pushed through the crowd, and kneeling beside his son he enveloped the younger pro into his arms. Akira clung to his father doggedly, but he did not stop asking what happened.  
  
"Hikaru saved you", Waya answered, his eyes unreadable. "He said that he didn't want you to die alone, Touya." The ni dan looked up incredulously at this, not quite finding words to express his astonishment. "He said you'd do the same for him, if you'd have been in the same position. Is that true? Or will he die for nothing?"  
  
* * *  
  
Above, Hikaru coughed in the room, spitting out ash. Of course, no one could hear him - the only people that were near were either charred or down a story. With great effort, he lifted himself off the floor and lifted his sleeve to his mouth. The water that he had sprayed himself with at the fire hydrant was almost completely dry - soon, he would become dry tinder. The door was blocked, of course - he went through one of the sliding doors, checking each other main doors as he went along. Finally finding one that had nothing blocking it, he knocked it open sharply and entered the hallway. He coughed again, sharply, almost enough to draw blood, and started down the stairs. Behind him, something crashed, sending plaster raining from the ceiling. The building gave an old, anguished groan, and Hikaru knew he didn't have much time.  
  
But he was tired, so tired. . .  
  
Wearily he made his way down the stairs, his feet catching on the ends. Somehow Go stones had been scattered all over the stairs, and he slipped on a few of them. The metal railing was so hot to the touch that he had to back a foot away from it. Even the walls were warm; he gave them a pat as he sank on the bottom step of the stairs to the first floor. He could see the doorway from there, but it was blocked by something fiery. Around him, the entire world seemed to shake and meld with the fire; and his mind was so clouded, he couldn't think clearly. But his instincts remained, and when he dragged his eyelids up again, someone was standing in the front door, calling to him, calling for him to go and walk outside. Slowly, he began to move, his every step seemingly to weigh ten elephants, he made his way halfway across the room, towards the cubby holes for shoes that were still full, for no one had thought to get their shoes as they ran outside, and then his eyelids dropped down and he couldn't pull them back up again, and he didn't feel the impact as he hit the floor.  
  
Waya screamed as Hikaru fell. Regardless of warnings, he rushed in and picked his friend off of the floor. He was almost at the door when Isumi came, and helping Waya carry Hikaru, all three managed to get outside, where the rain had turned to a fierce sheet of iciness. Immediately they were beset upon by medics, who rushed them over to the hospital, an umbrella over their heads as the stretchers moved. Behind them, the building gave an almighty crash and the dust of plaster and smoke billowed out like foggy hands, ready to snatch lives.  
  
Waya reached over, over the rim of the stretcher and felt Hikaru's neck. It was sweaty, heated skin, but the boy didn't care - what he did care about was a pulse, any feeling below his fingers, something that would signify his friend was still alive. "Is he alive?", he asked the medic that was pushing him, half in delirium. "Is he alive?", he continued to ask until the anesthetic needle was pushed into his arm and he fell asleep.  
  
And the day was silent except for the people who splashed through puddles, for the kids in the arcade, or the library, or the mall - some people saw the smoke, but they dismissed it as nothing. But there were no children in the Insei school that day - no MORE Insei students in the building anymore.  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Not up to my usual standards, I hope you've noticed. But, it's a start - it's been a while since I wrote anything productive, so I hope you like it anyway. By the way, this is AU - if you've noticed, the building where Hikaru plays Insei matches only has one floor. And, if you're asking me, "Would Hikaru actually do that?", the answer is I don't know. But, my impression is that Hikaru has a big enough heart to save someone out of a fire, especially if it was someone he knew. * shrugs * You decide.  
  
I'll continue if you want me to. Just tell me that, will you? I think I'll continue it anyway, though.  
  
Andrea Weiling 


	2. The Conversation

The Fire: The Conversation  
  
He trembled, his fists clenched at his sides, one around Waya, who was peacefully snoring on his shoulder. No, he couldn't lose his temper here, not when Waya had finally been knocked out with a few anesthetics for a few hours. He couldn't worry, then, about Hikaru, about the condition that the youngest of them was in NOW, and he could just sleep and sleep and dream about Go. Even now, he watched as the younger's fingers moved, almost as if picking up stones, tapping sluggishly against his leg. He wondered if this was how Waya usually slept - or if it was the side effects of the anesthetics working on him.  
  
Of course, Isumi could worry. He wasn't sound asleep, wasn't knocked completely senseless that he wouldnt' be worrying about his friend who had been in the room for three hours, THREE HOURS, and no one had come back out of it. It was all very well that the doctors were doing their best for him, but he highly questioned their ability if they were taking this long. It was restraining, the four white walls that gleamed at him like grinning white teeth, and the humorless windows that only showed rain and gray ash skies. No, he decided it wasn't fair that Waya was allowed to sleep while he was allowed to be awake. He couldn't exactly walk out of the hospital - for one, there was Hikaru, and his maddening parental instincts just wouldn't let "abandoning" Hikaru become a possible option, and for two there was Waya, still sound asleep like a child, ticking his fingers to the rhythm of an imaginary watchclock. Slowly, he calmed down, his nerves still red like the fire that continued to glow dimly in his mind, like a half-dream when he was almost asleep.  
  
It wasn't that he was worried or anything - he WAS the oldest Insei student, so he knew how it was to be looked down upon as "just a child" - but even as one side of his brain told him that Hikaru could take care of himself, the other side urged him to do something. But what could HE do? He wasn't a surgeon, a doctor, and he didn't have anything over first-aid class, which he had taken almost three years ago. Still, still, his fingers itched to do something, anything - what ifs circled around his head like those little birds in the American cartoons when the characters got squashed. He knew that he shouldn't be just collectively worried about one person, not just worried about Hikaru - there were other members of the fire, ones that might have gotten hurt more than Hikaru, and he knew that he should get up and look for anyone that he could possibly know - but somehow, he couldn't tear himself from that seat. It occurred to him that he was waiting, waiting for someone to come and tell him because they would, they would know who he was and who he was waiting for because everyone had seen the boy who saved Touya Akira.  
  
As if on cue, footsteps rounded the corner of the waiting room and a certain well-known son of the Meijin Touya came around. Isumi could blatantly see the hesitation on his face, ridiculously out of place with the regular cool demeanor that he perceived around the famous Touya's son. It wasn't that he felt any ill will towards Touya Akira (maybe a little, though, because Touya Akira had obviously passed the pro test without any difficulty at all), especially not in the way that Hikaru had gone out of his way to save this particular person. He could see the emotions that battled for control, especially the discomfiture when Touya asked, "May I sit here?", and Isumi made room. But especially, he noted something like a still-duped disbelief on his face.  
  
There was silence, blessed silence. Then Touya blurted out uncharacteristically, "I don't know."  
  
Isumi knew that this was finally the answer to the question that he, too, had been thinking about. Too bad Waya was asleep, though - he would have liked to hear the answer to that stinging question he posed before marching off to the front door of the building. But even as his rage began to build up in him - how could Touya Akira be so ungrateful to his personalize savior? - he forced the bitter medicine down. No, he wouldn't get angry now, not when there was still Hikaru in the ER. He didn't exactly want it to be known that while Hikaru was preoccupied, he had taken to beating the living daylights out of Hikaru's rival. It wouldn't be nice news, especially when Hikaru woke up. The kid would probably take Isumi and beat him up himself, if at all a shortie would be able to beat up an almost-six foot Isumi.  
  
"You don't know what?", Isumi asked calmly, knowing the answer.  
  
"The question. The question that Yoshitaka asked. About Hikaru thinking that I'd do the same for him. I don't know if I would have - I've never thought of it that way, I've never thought that maybe he saw me as something more than just a very big obstacle to overcome. Certainly, I didn't", he paused, and his shoulders shook. "I saw him as just a threat - never as a person, someone whohas a life, I just presumed that he lived for Go like me and nothing else, that he was untouchable like everyone just like me... I just didn't see him as a person who had other interests as well."   
  
Isumi said nothing.  
  
"I didn't think about the insane stuff, the things that only happen movies when enemies have to team up and fight a common enemy - I've just never seen myself in Shindou's eyes, never seen him as anything more than just...just..."  
  
"An object", Isumi finished. "But now you know what these people are, everyone in this world, they're all human and they're all susceptible to Death at all times. Hikaru won't blame you if you tell him this when he wakes up. He will just say that he's glad you learned it. Would you do the same for him, now, if the chance arose?" Touya nodded. "Then there's no harm done."  
  
"But what if I'm not there...what if he dies anyway from a falling building or a fire or an earthquake or something like that..."  
  
"Then it's not your fault. You can't expect yourself to be Hikaru's personal savior now that he's saved you. He's not a person who's revolved around 'paying people back', you know. He's a person who believes in belief, the belief that people can learn. If you ask a favor of him, he won't expect a favor in return. He doesn't like to ask favors himself, even thought that's the way it usually goes. He expects nothing in return, Touya. Learn that rule of selflessness, and you will be like Hikaru. You've got to be willing to give something and not expect something back - to have someone get angry and punch you and not fight back, or have someone throw stuff at you - you have to learn to be peaceful, let it by." Isumi smiled wryly. "I don't know if Hikaru wouldn't react to someone throwing a Go board at him, though."  
  
"I'm so unlike him."  
  
"Learn to be like him. It might help in beating him. Mercy is his middle name." Touya looked at him quickly at that particular comment, but said nothing. The ni dan wasn't sure if that was a clue to how Shindo played or just a philosophy that he went by.  
  
After a few moments, Touya spoke again. "Has anyone come out yet?"  
  
"No", Isumi answered distractedly, thinking of the same question, "no one's come out." Touya bowed his head and began to fall into a quiet recession when Isumi suddenly asked, "Are you worried?"  
  
Touya stiffened in response. Isumi immediately knew that he'd hit something important. He watched as various emotions battled on the pro's face as he struggled to answer.  
  
"No", the ni dan finally managed to say. "I'm not worried. Shindou's luck has never failed him before. It will not start now."  
  
Isumi snorted, but inside he was seething. Thinly he veiled his next angry words so that even Touya could hear the contempt. "Luck?", he questioned, "all we can depend on is fickle Luck?" A pause, then, "Are you saying that you believe that the reason Hikaru won you in two informal matches was because of just his LUCK?" When Touya didn't move, Isumi continued. "You truly see his progress as nothing more than just chance, rather than ability?"  
  
In response, the pro's hands tightened on the fabric of his pants. "That. . .is what I thought, at first. But after playing and replaying the game in my mind and also on the board, I realized there was simply too much that could have been attributed to petty Luck. . .it was someone else, someone who's not Shindou. . .even if Shindou studied all the Go books in the entire world but never played a single game, he could not have played half as well as my opponent that day."  
  
Isumi was clearly mystified. "Not Hikaru who played you/" He had heard of the incident in the Go parlor that Touya Akira had often visited - the manager lady there was a friend of his mother's - and he, too, had been amazed that someone of Touya's own age had actually matched the young Go prodigy's caliber in an informal match. Furthermore, he was surprised when that same exact person turned up at the Go Research Center, intent on becoming an Insei. Still, he did not understand. Not Hikaru? Though he knew sometimes he could catch the youngster half-talking to himself, he dismissed it as just imagination.  
  
Akira continued to ramble on, oblivious to the fact that he still had an audience. "No, it wasn't Shindou that played me that day - Shindou hadn't ever played anyone before playing me, so he had no experience whatsoever beforehand." He looked beseechingly at the pristine, white ceiling as if asking a question. "It's almost as if he had a second persona, like. . ."  
  
"Sai?", Isumi finished. Touya jolted upright - he hadn't been aware that he had been speaking his thoughts out loud. Isumi regarded him levelly, and in response to his apparent knowing of the answer to Touya's riddle, asked, "Have you ever played an opponent called 'Zelda' on NetGo?" Touya shook his head, but it was uncertain; after all, he played many people on NetGo, and he might have played Zelda but didn't remember it. "I know him, and he has played Sai before. He's also played Hikaru before - I've heard him comment that Hikaru's plays almost imitate Sai's, in a funny way - the two people counter the similar circumstances almost identically, and sometimes he swears that Hikaru had been practicing against Sai by night and playing him by day, especially on how fast Hikaru's Go has developed in only a year or so." Isumi smiled wryly, trying NOT to look down at Waya's head and ruffle it. "I'm quite familiar with him - he thinks very highly of Sai, even though Sai has not returned to NetGo for some time now." Touya nodded assent to the fact, and the two lapsed back into silence.  
  
Soon, the doctor came, and gave a lengthy, long-winded explanation of "Shindou will have breathing problems for the rest of his life" that took twenty minutes or so. By that time, Waya was snoring like ten pigs that had been lullabyed to sleep, and Touya was drooping his head. The only other piece of relevant information that was actually understood in all the medical garble was that Hikaru would be awake in a day or so, and that nothing else other than a small part of his lungs was permanently damaged. Isumi and Akira were both parting ways when Waya finally came around.  
  
"Eh?", he asked drowsily, the anesthetics still having their affect on him, "what happened?"  
  
Isumi knocked on his head lightly. "We've been talking about you." At this, Touya looked a little concerned - they had been talking about Waya? He certainly didn't remember THAT particular part of the conversation.  
  
"Oh", was the still-dizzy reply before Waya plopped his head back on top of Isumi's shoulder and continued to snore.  
  
Author's note:  
  
Well well well, whaddaya know, I actually wrote the next part. * grins * There should be one more chapter in this trilogy, and then we'll be finished. Thanks to all my reviewers, especially XD - I don't know if I'll write another story about "Hikaru no Go" after this, but let me finish this one first, and then you can tell me if you want another one. I'm hoping that it won't be something too big. . .Lord knows that I take a project and I can't finish it. Well, ja for now, got an essay to write, ya know.  
  
Andrie 


	3. The Hands

The Fire: The Hands  
  
When finally he awoke again, he thought it must be that someone was shining a light directly in his eye - maybe he was at the eye doctor and had fallen asleep - but strange, he couldn't think of anything but fire and sparks and ash, all dancing before his eyes like some hellish pagan ritual. And the light, it stung like a million needles straight into his eyes, like they were all trying to tear his eye apart and look inside. It was like he was dead: there was just light, stretching out in eternity before him, and he couldn't feel anything, not his hands or his head. He wondered how he could think - even more than that, he wondered if all the religions in the world were wrong and when you died you simply became part of light particles forever - and he wondered why it was taking so long for an angel or a demon to come get him and send him to Heaven or Hell or whatever. And finally the pain became so sharp, especially near his heart, and he had to close his eyes again.  
  
It was like a well, he supposed. He promised himself that he'd only rest for a little bit, but when he opened his eyes again, it was already evening. Somehow he connected that when he'd last opened his eyes, there'd been light, angry and red, shooting sparks up in front of him, and the third floor awash with gasoline that he had to cross, and he remembered Touya in his arms, so heavy and he was so fatigued. He wondered why he did that - it wasn't that he bore Touya any ill will, but rather, he wasn't sure where he'd gotten the notion that if he died, he'd be a martyr in the history of Go forever or something. Japanese were always like that, he guessed, even though it was being stereotypical of him to say such - they were always self-giving, and even though they expected something in return, what they expected and what they SAID they expected were two completely different amounts of favors.  
  
In that aspect, then, he was probably more like a calloused American. Of course, the definition "calloused American" was probably being biased as well, but for the moment, he didn't quite care. He half-regretted he was alive - he couldn't play Go forever in Heaven, then.  
  
The room was small and square. Slowly his memory came back faster to him, down to the last detail until suddenly he tasted the ashes in his mouth, something that he would think rotten soap, if there was such a thing, would taste like. With a gag he shot up in the bed, holding both hands over his mouth, and hacked, his lungs burning up with the sudden movement and the sudden pain, and he felt the retinas of his eyes seemed to seep in white pain and color the insides of his eyelids white, so he could see nothing else. He thought that this time, he would truly die - not from the fire in the building, but from the pain. But slowly, like the slow fading of the black and white dots on an old television, his mind and his eyes cleared, and still groaning gently he was laid back gently onto the bed where he lay, still clenching the sheets as if the white sparkles would jump back into his vision any moment. His lungs wheezed his breath in and out, and he felt weary. It was hard to keep his eyes open.  
  
"Shindou?", a voice asked softly. He turned his eyes to see Touya there, trying not to look concerned but failing, and he took his hand and patted the other's gently where it was on the side of the bed. He couldn't talk - his throat was still on fire, along with the rest of his lungs, but he managed to smile somehow and show that he was okay. No one did anything for a moment, and then Touya smiled. "I'm glad you're awake."  
  
Gradually Hikaru managed to move his other hand and tap his wrist. In response, the ni dan looked down at his watch and announced time and date. For a little while, Hikaru let the ni dan talk - he got the distinct feeling that he'd never hear Touya say as much as half this many words at once in his entire lifetime ever again - and he listened, hearing the chatter about what presents and gifts people had brought, who had visited, and what everyone's reactions were. It wasn't like Touya to talk at all, he knew, but for once he was witnessing something he hadn't exactly seen before: the ni dan had forgotten formality and was now talking to him as if he'd known Hikaru forever. Of course, that didn't mean that Touya WASN'T the most infuriatingly polite person he'd ever met, no exceptions, but it was. . .nice, hearing Touya talk like he was still young and innocent. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him that Touya Akira was the loneliest boy he'd ever met.  
  
But Touya ran out of things to say after a little while of describing how Ogata's face looked when he realized that Touya Akira had been visiting his rival in the hospital, and his father's gruff approval of Hikaru's actions, holding in higher-than-holy respect for saving his son's life. They sat in silence for a little while, Touya smiling a little (probably of the priceless Kodak moment where Ogata had all but squawked at him sitting by Hikaru) and holding his hand. Hikaru watched him for a little while, then asked bluntly, "Am I going to die now?"  
  
Touya jumped with a little surprise, and gave a rather sweet smile at the subject. "No - they say you might have some breathing problems, but nothing serious. Something due to the carbon dioxide in the air permeating into your lung tissue or something. . ." Hikaru didn't say anything, but looked on, knowing that Touya had more to say. "No, you won't escape from Go for a little while - you still have your match against me to play, someday, and you know that I'll be waiting for you then." Akira gave a little smile, and his eyes were determined. "You won't beat me."  
  
Hikaru grinned at the words. THAT was more like the Touya that he was used to, challenging every word. "Are you a fortuneteller?"  
  
Touya looked at him a little strangely, as if he was half-afraid that Hikaru was hallucinating or something. "No. . ."  
  
"Then you can't say you'll win."  
  
Akira gave a smile to that and that was the end of that. Hikaru could read it in his face, though, just the way that Touya looked down and twiddled his fingers nervously, one thumb running down the back of Hikaru's hand in a warm, firm grasp. That in itself was a strange thing: he'd always thought Touya was cold, icy when stubborn, frozen when in a match - never had he thought of Touya as warm. Something had changed internally in Touya, he decided, some sort of life-threatening change. Or, rather, perhaps not life-threatening - life-altering would be a better description, he decided.  
  
"Waya asked me something", Touya started softly, and Hikaru could see almost see the fire that Touya saw, streaming above him where he, himself must be, and Touya was looking at the window to see if someone would come out of it. "He asked me if it'd been the opposite, would I do the same thing for you?" Then the fire was gone, along with the glow, and Hikaru visibly saw Touya curl back up in his snail shell in guilt. "I couldn't answer, Shindou - I couldn't feel a moment where I'd thought of you as a friend, or perhaps someone who would someday save someone else just from the goodness of your own heart - it never occurred to me to be human, you know. I started to wonder. . .Go hasn't taught this to me, has it? I guessed that it must be your own experiences that taught you this, maybe because you have so many people around you. I - I doubted my ability to feel, you know, like I wasn't feeling human enough. I couldn't see how you could do such a thing, to go inside a burning building and just save someone out of the necessity of saving someone's life. . .I couldn't say that I would do the same, and I was a-ashamed, a-and -"  
  
"So? Would you do it for me now? Would you do it for anyone now? If you heard that there was a person trapped inside a house during an earthquake, and everyone was outside, would you be the one to step forward and say that you'd go into the house and pull that person out?"  
  
"I. . .", Touya faltered a little. It was a little like making a promise, he supposed, a promise to be compassionate. He bit his lip for a moment, and he felt ashamed of the feeling he had for himself, the pride he had and all the times someone said to him "you'll grow to be great". But in this, his self-worth wasn't of the question - it was his life that was in question, not the quality of his life, and in that aspect, he was no better than anyone else. "Yes", he breathed out. Hikaru's expression didn't change.  
  
"Are you hurt?"  
  
Touya started for a moment. "Yes", he said again, "not from the fire, though. From my pride, yes. From my selfishness, yes. You brought the question, but you were only prompting me to look inside myself. I see now why someone would do that when the idea would have preposterous for me to jump inside a building before when I had such a life before me." He smiled a little wryly. "Japanese are always self-sacrificing, aren't they? They delight in blaming themselves."  
  
Hikaru gave a soft laugh. He couldn't laugh to hard because every breath he took seemed to bring just more pain to him. He tried to hold his breath, but that just hurt him even more. "As long as you know", he said finally. "Your life is no better than anyone else's. You may do a lot in life, but your life is still the same value as mine. It's that willingness to give it, though, that sets you apart. You're right - Go can't teach you how to be human. It can only teach you strategy. You have to learn other ways, from other people." He gave a little smile. "Get some friends. Don't hang out with those old geezers all the time, okay?"  
  
Akira gave a smile at that. "Mercy", he said softly before leaving.  
  
"Yes", Hikaru agreed. "Humans need that." And then he turned and went back to sleep. Akira closed the door behind him, and looked down at his hands. There were worth more than picking up Go stones, now - they were made to work miracles. They glowed, faintly, his fingers, he could see the tiny sparkles like inward light coming from them. Then, dropping them to his sides, he walked out of the building into the street.  
  
Author's note:  
  
Sorry. Didn't mean that to be so long drawn out. Don't smack me for saying that Go can't teach someone to be human - certainly, there were about five things in this story that I completely disagreed with, but still wrote anyway, so don't blame me for stupid ideas; I mean, I'm just a writer. Where Inspiration wants to take me, it'll take me. But, yeah. I'm starting to plan another story. . .I'm not sure if it'll be for Hikaru no Go, though, so give me a little time on the subject.  
  
Andrea Weiling 


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